


Sunlight and Ropes

by Lilly_White



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: F/M, PWP, Rope Bondage, Shibari
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-10 06:05:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12292869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilly_White/pseuds/Lilly_White
Summary: Sephiroth introduces Aeris to rope bondage.(Can be taken as a "deleted scene" of Border of Taboo.)





	Sunlight and Ropes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lyra_Sanzennine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyra_Sanzennine/gifts).



> I have a strange way of serenading my favourite fic writers. Oh well. Hope you enjoy this PWP! :D

° ° °

‘Are you ready ?’

Aeris put her tea mug down on the coffee table, wiping a little shine from the corner of her lip. She couldn’t meet his eye. It had already been difficult to get through half an hour’s worth of quietly sipping tea while he detailed what he would do to her and the attitude he expected her to have.

She nodded. ‘I’m ready.’

Behind them, he had cleared the space where his dining table usually was so that there was a square of hardwood floor waiting for their use. It was surrounded by floor-to-ceiling windows that let in the sunlight, warming the hardwood. At the foot of one window lay a black folded-up blanket that looked soft and expensive, and a large square of silk tied up to create a pouch.

Sephiroth poured himself more tea.

‘Go and prepare our space.’

Aeris got up obediently and went over to the windows. She bent over and picked up the blanket. It was satisfyingly heavy in her hands and yet as soft as flour. She dropped to her knees and spread it out over the floor, conscious of Sephiroth’s eyes on her as she flattened the corners and brushed away the folds. She was only wearing a floral summer dress whose skirts came mid-thigh, so crawling around on her hands and knees probably gave him ample view of her stockings. Tense as always at the idea of baring herself for him like this, she tried to ignore the feeling of his eyes on her as she worked.

Once done, she crawled over to the pouch. The black silk was shot through with gold thread patterns, looking just as elegant and yet starkly minimalistic as the rest of Sephiroth’s belongings. She lay a hand on the bumps, feeling the coils of rope beneath. Swallowing, she undid the knot and opened the pouch to reveal bunches and bunches of undyed rope. It looked brittle and frayed, bits sticking out here and there.

She heard Sephiroth gulp down a mouthful of tea before getting up in a rustle of leather. She shuffled away from the rope and knelt in the centre of the blanket, facing towards the windows and away from him. Waiting. She heard him settle on the blanket to her left, kneeling by the coiled-up ropes to undo them.

‘This is made from coir,’ he told her. His deep voice was the only sound in the room apart from the quiet zip of rope against his palms. ‘Coconut fibre. It’s one of the more brittle kinds of rope you’ll find.’

She stared ahead at the view of Midgar’s skyscrapers, the rare patches of blue sky between the omnipresent clouds. His body heat crept closer to her as he moved. Then he was behind her, his chest a whisper away from her shoulder blades. Her hands curled into fists against her thighs as he reached around her with both arms, close enough for an embrace though he resolutely didn’t touch her. He was holding a length of rope between his hands. Slowly, he laid it against her bare cleavage in a straight line.

‘Feel it.’ He pulled the rope along her skin, one hand positioning it and allowing it to slide, the other pulling it tightly against her so that it bit into her skin.

She let out a breath. It was brittle enough to burn and itch at the same time. But once he stopped and let the line of rope settle against her, it was almost a relief, the contact of it rubbing against the reddened skin, an evocation of his own touch.

‘How do you find it?’

‘Rough,’ she said. ‘It kind of… burns. But I can manage it.’

He hummed in approval. Then he moved again, looping the rope around her chest and upper arms so that they were blocked against her sides. The room was filled with the sound of rope zipping against skin and his own breathing as he worked. He was kneeling behind her, arms coming around her to secure knots or to pluck at a loop of rope and pull it over several stacked lines. The ropes crackled and strained whenever she tried to breathe to full capacity. It was beginning to scare her, but he had told her that she should breathe through it and relax. So she did. She contented herself with smaller breaths, closing her eyes as she concentrated on relaxing the tensions in her body.

Soon she was leaning back against his chest, engulfed in his body heat and clean perfume as he worked. It was oddly nice – the lack of conversation, the fact that he was concentrating on how to efficiently wind the rope around her while staying close enough to take her body weight. He would flatten a hand over her chest as the other tugged at the ropes, keeping the lines flat and neatly parallel.

When he came to her arms, he slid his fingertips down the length of them, as if he were preparing her for the rope that would bite into them. His hot breath was on her neck and she could feel goosebumps spreading over her skin as he pulled her wrists up, tucking them under her chin. Her folded arms flattened her breasts and she felt her breath come even shorter as he secured the ropes around her.

She was beginning to feel lightheaded. Her legs were curled against the blanket, completely useless as she leaned her whole weight against Sephiroth. She was entering into a giddy mindspace where she just wanted this to keep going, for the whole evening to be just this, silence and his warm hands on her and the brittle, too-tight hug of rope cocooning her body.

He moved to the side, arms cradling her as he guided her down to the floor. She felt his breath ghost over her lips, his moonlight hair slide across the reddened skin of her cleavage. The silkiness of his hair made such a stark contrast to the frayed ropes that she shivered, arching towards him despite herself. Every patch of snow-white skin between the criss-cross of ropes felt oversensitive, anticipating the burn of the rope.

She lay on her side, her wrists at her throat, watching through heavy-lidded eyes as Sephiroth loomed over her. He slid a hand down her back, coaxing the rope along her spine and between the plump cheeks of her backside through the dress. Then he pulled the rope up between her thighs. She couldn’t help the surprised noise she made as it burrowed into the thin cotton of her knickers. He held the rope near her belly button, holding the tension there for a moment. Then he moved it slowly to the side, so that the rope rolled snugly between her labia and pressed against her clit.

She glanced up at him. He was kneeling in front of her, one hand keeping the rope taut, the other closing almost tenderly over her shackled wrists. He was staring down at her with an intensity betraying arousal, his lips shining from where he’d bitten them. She frowned as he pulled the rope over her clit again, the pressure far too heavy. Any more and she would quickly reach the point of overstimulation. She gave a frustrated groan, closed her eyes and turned her face towards the blanket. She needed him to touch her there – but not like that, not so strongly.

He relented and tied the rope into a knot near her pubis. Once it was secure, he rolled her onto her back and pulled her up into a sitting position again by tugging on her makeshift harness. By now she was limp, letting him control her entirely. He straddled her legs, letting her rest her forehead against his shoulder as he looped the rope around her waist once, twice, three times. When he tightened it, she felt the thick band bite into her, weighing on her hips. It added a layer to the cocoon he was weaving around her, and she sighed against him, her mind going fuzzy. She felt so secure. Held. She breathed her shallow breaths against his throat, staring sightlessly at the delicate shell of his ear and the strands of silver hair that crossed over it. He was comfortable to lean on… and so warm… and Gaia, there was something about being manipulated firmly and yet conscientiously like this – he would tug hard sometimes, pull at her limbs and tighten the rope mercilessly, but he would always be careful to turn her body around or support her weight so that she didn’t hurt herself. He was the very last man on the Planet that she should’ve trusted, but as the session went on, she found herself trusting him to keep her safe. Cocooned and cared for.

Gaia, she was getting delirious.

At one point the rope that lay between her thighs tightened, the knot pressing into her pubis just above her clit. The pressure was more diffuse this way, more enjoyable, and she bit her lip as she tried not to grind against it. Sephiroth moved her again, and she was stretched out on her front, arms crushed between her chest and the floor, legs in an open V. She couldn’t breathe and yet it only contributed to her growing arousal as she lay there, panting softly, feeling her knickers getting a little damp around the pressure of that knot. Not even caring that Sephiroth was watching her, she tried to roll her hips a little. The way the knot massaged her clit made her moan.

She felt him hitch her dress up around the ropes, the fabric dragging up between her cheeks. Her face burned red as he bared her plump backside and ran his fingertips along her garters at the back of her thighs. She shivered at the softness of his touch. Then there was the sharp clap of skin against skin, and she felt the burn creep along her butt cheek seconds after he’d spanked her.

‘Did I say you could pleasure yourself?’ he murmured.

‘No,’ she breathed. Her eyes fluttered shut as the burn made way for a giddy rush of endorphins. He spanked her again and she tensed, knees digging into the blanket. Then his fingers followed the rope down between her thighs, gliding along the wet cotton of her underwear. They slid under the rope, probed her entrance through the cotton and she let out a strangled little moan.

She felt him lean over her, his hair covering her back as he lowered his mouth to her ear.

‘Wetness damages the ropes,’ he purred. ‘So you’d better behave yourself.’

She grinned. She was pretty sure that was bullshit, but then he bit her ear and placed a hot open-mouthed kiss on the back of her neck, so she effectively sank into the zone without protest.

He sat between her legs as a way to further antagonize her, forcing her to keep her legs wide open and heighten the pressure on her clit as he folded one of her legs and patiently wound the rope around it. He did the same to her other leg so that each one was folded and neatly tied up. When she tried to unfold them, she couldn’t even manage to move a milimetre, her efforts resulting in a satisfying crackle of ropes and lines of pain biting into her skin. There were holes in her stockings around the ropes – he traced each one with his fingertips, then bend down to kiss the patches of bare skin, leaving them wet and tingling from the contact of his mouth.

She was getting desperate to move against the bulk of the knot as he kissed his way up her inner thighs. When he came up to her buttocks and trailed his tongue along the rope that parted both cheeks, she gave a frustrated moan, arching her hips up for him.

‘What is it?’ he asked her, his mouth hovering by her sex.

‘Sephiroth,’ she sighed irritably.

‘Yes?’

‘ _Please_.’

‘Tell me what you want.’

Gaia, she was going to kill him.

‘Can I – move now?’

He straightened. She felt his fingers return to her labia, pulling the rope to the side to have access to her entrance. She bit her lip when he pulled her knickers aside too, baring her slick folds.

‘You can,’ he instructed her. ‘Just tell me when you’re close.’

He plunged two fingers into her and she moaned shamelessly at the utter satisfaction of it. She ground against the knot as his fingers twisted inside her, tracing wanton circles against her deepest wall. She wasn’t even thinking of how awkwardly positioned she was. She just needed to satisfy the giddy rush in her veins, precipitated by the painful hug of the ropes around her body.

It hardly felt like any time had passed before she came to the brink. She stopped breathing, her body tensing up as she ground faster against the knot – she wanted to come, she _needed_ to come, but she knew better than to go against his wishes.

‘I’m – I’m nearly there,’ she gasped.

No sooner had she said the words that he withdrew his fingers and wrapped his hands around her hips, pulling them up to stop her from grinding.

She moaned in protest as the rush collapsed, simmering down again and leaving her breathless with need. He flipped her onto her back and she lay there panting, glaring up at him and momentarily _hating_ him with every fibre of her being.

He smiled down at her. ‘You’ll come with my cock inside you, and no sooner.’

She closed her eyes and rocked her head back against the blanket. He undid the rope around her waist, slowly trailing it across her puffy labia as he slid it away from her. It took a gargantuan effort to _not_ beg him to leave it on. She felt strangely naked around the waist and pubis with the rope gone.

There was a rustle of leather as he unbuckled his pants and unzipped. And then something round and wet and achingly smooth took the place of the rope, fitting snugly between her lips and she pressed up against it, sighing. It was such a blissfully soft contact after the brittle rope. He slid the head of his cock up and down her soaking slit, nudging her swollen bud until she felt like crying out with frustration.

He leaned over her, hands planted at her sides, hair streaming down around her face as he watched her expression. She glared at him, not wanting him to look at her so intensely – but when he entered her she couldn’t help the way her face creased up in absolute bliss, her mouth dropping open around a shameless cry. He fucked her slowly, taking his time and enjoying the sight of her coming undone.

‘Tell me if the angle is right,’ he murmured.

She made a tiny confused noise, trying to concentrate on the sensation of his pubis rubbing against hers. 

‘Forwards,’ she breathed.

He obliged, tilting his hips so that his pubis flattened over her clit and _dragged_ it in a way that left her gasping for breath.

‘Better?’ he teased.

‘Better,’ she agreed.

While she tried to keep a grasp on the waking world, he snuck a length of rope along her neck, letting it lie there weightlessly just under her jaw. She stared up at him, foggy and mindless, trying to breathe through the constriction of her wrists and arms. It was easy enough to guess what he was about to do, but with the way he was moving inside her and the fact that she couldn’t move at all – she could only surrender herself to his will, eyes locked with his as he tightened the rope.

No air could enter or leave her lungs. She felt as though she were bursting in slow motion when she came. Her mouth was open and empty, her eyes shut and her ears ringing. There was silence, like an explosion underwater, pleasure lurching through her and filling her to the brim.

She floated for a long time before Sephiroth let go of the rope around her neck. The first intake of breath was slow and groggy. The second was almost ecstatic. Air in her lungs. Who would’ve thought. His own rhythm had grown faster and more desperate as he approached his own orgasm. Her arms were getting crushed between their chests as he leaned closer, his mouth within kissing distance from hers. He had never kissed her before. She stared down at his shapely lips, wondering if he would break that particular rule of his. But then he came, hard, and she was too fascinated by the face he made to care that he’d yet again avoided that particular gesture.

The silence that came afterwards was saturated with intimacy and a rare tenderness. Aeris let him unwind the rope from her body slowly, her skin reddened and badly burned from the contact of frayed coir. She’d forgotten how it felt to breathe at full capacity, to move her hands and arms with such a wide range of freedom. Once she was lying there on her back, he let the messy bunch of untied ropes lie across her chest and stomach. She couldn’t help appreciating the passive weight of them. She felt a strange sort of… yearn for the secure grip of them around her body. A yearn to enter into that silent trusting space with him again.

They stayed like that for a few long minutes, her breathing softly, him sitting close by her and watching her. She found that she wasn’t ready for him to stop touching her, so she felt absurdly grateful for the absent-minded caresses he was giving her, hands roaming over the ruined nylon on her thighs.

‘Everything alright?’ he asked her, his voice low and husky.

She glanced up at him with a dazed smile. ‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘Everything’s alright.’

° ° °


End file.
